i’m going to the ball

there’s this dinner event tomorrow i’m pretty excited about. well i did these two interviews initially to nudge my spending power up a little. and the awards are really for the entrepreneurs. alas, there’s a student interviewer category which i think was introduced on a for-the-sake-of basis. 

                                                                    
well i got a consolation prize. it’s really not a big deal getting consolation prizes. you don’t see them giving away Nobel Peace consolation Prizes, do ya? i’ll be glad if they make it a big deal, though. because along with the prize, i get a splitting dilemma on what to wear. it’s supposedly formal ‘coat and tie’, but i’m not about to go on overdressed coz i got a really good feeling many won’t show up with coats. at the same time, i don’t wanna be Joe whose only known form of ‘formal’ consists of black pants, a long sleeve shirt and a tie. it’s the age old question of style versus substance*. whatever – my new mantra of sorts – because no matter what i wear, i just hope won’t get in the way of me enjoying the performances; the band and San Nikkis. i talk like i know who he or she is but i really don’t. anyway, if there’s one thing that makes going to such events ALONE easier, it’s enjoying live music. and the food. i’m just kinda scared of the actual receiving itself - thoughts of tripping on a non-existent object falling flat on my semi-moisturized face – you know, the usual. shut up already.
   
                                      
 *quoted from To Wong Foo, Thanks For Everything! on a for-the-sake-of basis
                                                      

they banned prozac nation

they’ve done it again. the control freaks of the nation. and the reason given was a weak, it deals with drugs. i haven’t seen the film. i am resorting to means that are frowned upon by many people, to have an idea of what it looks like.

i do not get why movies with premises of pure gore and violence are allowed, but a story about a girl being eaten up from the inside - not literally – in the very body she grew up in, isn’t. being utterly trapped like that is a far greater story to tell – the kind of ingenuous art that is worth showing to the world, even to this miniscule dot of a nation. people would then be able to understand individuals that are far more complex than them. 

people can also follow – i assume this is the opposing view. maybe they want to protect the people that will go on to cut themselves, or pop random pills after watching the film. people who are in situations so dire, they try solutions portrayed even in a film. i think the sole fact that these greenhorns think that self-mutilation is a solution freaks the censors out. well i’m freaked out by the censors, how bout that?

in any case, the Elizabeth Wurtzel book is ironically, readily available at many good bookstores; even at my dear school’s library. and yes i have borrowed this modern literary genius - it is a bible of sorts. question is; how does a film get banned from entering the country, whereas a book it is adapted from is so easily obtained? we all know books have more content than their big screen counterparts. so do they (whoever they are) honestly think that a film, with a preset selection of images, outweighs a book in terms of giving people ideas?

for the record, i am not an avid reader. i wouldn’t call myself a reader at all. but i know that beautifully crafted text leads to vivid imaginations, and the same book read by a thousand people will paint a thousand different pictures. and whether this rambling is about the power of text versus actual images or about the highly selective movie ratings system in the country, i’m not sure. but the fact is, i cannot buy a Prozac Nation DVD in Singapore.

i feel nothing short of stifled.
                  

bitter pill

tomorrow i will shop.
i don’t care who’s free and who follows anymore.
i might as well be fucking alone than force anyone off their got forsaken, nonchalant bums.

i need this pronto. if anything to mend what’s become a rotten dump lately
although i know the attempts may lean towards being futile again
charging myself little happys, they don’t work sometimes
but it has long came to a stage where a little lift suffices
the demons inside will take control regardless
giving me loyalty like a raggedy doll on the path of light at night

boy. this shit should’ve been over long ago.
              

Goodbye Maestro

the legendary Luciano Pavarotti has died. i forsee countless cheap puns in the papers, with words like a huge loss and a big heartbreak. not that i don’t agree that it is indeed a cause for immense mourning. one more of the world’s influential humanitarian advocates is gone. one who helped people through the music that the masses would normally brush off, but he managed to bring singers and audiences alike together under the simple idea of music for humanity. this, i salute.

it’s a bit daunting that he died hours after i sang along listened to his duet with mariah carey, because the mood just struck. the superstitious side of me wants to scream signs are everywhere! but i think i’ll pass this one off as coincidence so as to not seem psychotic.

the man loved his food. he loved singing. and he certainly loved helping people. there’s nothing wrong with any of those. it’s just too bad that his love for food gave him those weight problems. i shall pay my one-man tribute tonight by enjoying the simplest pleasure that is eating (McDonalds, no less), sing a song or two, and help someone one of these days.

he didn’t get to complete his farewell tour, but he certainly left on a good note.
                                                    

“My dream is to wake up one day and be 50 pounds less, and fly.”
                                    

i wanna hurt myself

i had a dream.
no demons
no ghosts
just me and other people
symbolic people

one of those dreams where you wanna get back into just to end it right.
people relate to this.
but what you can’t proclaim as familiar, is the pure coldness of the dream
one i wouldn’t be able to make right even if i came back a thousand times over
and if a dream is so incredibly pathetic, one can’t help but ask what’s going on in real life

but i guess i shouldn’t let a dream affect me so much.
as much as it reflects everything that’s happening right now.

it ended with me trying to slap myself. no i was not going for a thespian moment
i was desperate for physical pain to quantify against what was felt inside.
a mighty will that became a weak swing of the arms greeted by cheeks that were numb.
and the only pain i felt was the inexistence of pain itself.

i woke up and as i laid there on the bed trying to make sense of what went wrong
my hands made a quick swing to my face and i felt it this time
there and then, i knew there’s a new channel
one i’ve been mulling over, but had always hoped i’d never have to resort to
to address this outright anger, sadness and confusion
the feelings were the only demon that was scaring me in that whole dream

when the only peace i find, my sleep, is infiltrated by the melancholia that consumes life awake
i have to do something. anything. however misguided it may be.
because nobody can and wants to help, the selfish beings expect perfection or they leave, and leave they did. 
so this answer has presented itself to me, after days of endless night.
i’ll accept

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i just got off a remote assistance session. and it’s ultradoofriggindaeh cool. now this one may already be to some people, what the birds and the bees are to pregnant teenage girls, but i’m fresh and wanna rave about it.

ok it basically works the same as in school, where the zealous lecturer would sometimes take control of your pc through his pc. but this one, it transcends LAN boundaries. i talked to the person who was at some random place in singapore. but the dude was having his way with my cursor and clicking in a tech support chivalry kinda way, while i sat here, just a little bit dumbfounded, also semi-grateful that i’m in the day and age where these things happen at norm.

so it’s possible after all to let someone do all the work for you, quite literally. i think this has the potential to bring laziness down to a new level. all you need to do is enter a code, accept programs here and there, and someone else is sharing control over your computer. but you remain the high priestest of your own pc, because your commands will take precedence. still, these things also demonstrate how random people with the right skills and wayward mentalities are able to get into your pants computer. oh how reassuring. but i won’t let that bring the program down. coz the stuff is just great, the kinda thing that makes me a wee bit flushed.

dog eat mollusks

two family reunions this week. just what i need. more queries about the ‘big loss’. the hows. not that i don’t appreciate the half-compliment half-spectacle, but they get me down more than making me contented. i guess it’s guilty conscience. or the revolutionised, but still piercing corner stares when i eat more than everyone else. or raw reflections in general.

oh bother. tomorrow will be great. i love family gatherings - the kids and the adults making equally as much noise. i’m really gonna EAT this time. yes this second get-together (and probably the last one for a loong time) for an aunt’s birthday will be at Carousel yet again. that’s the third time this year – trust me 3 bigass buffets a year is enough.